


Merry Fucking Christmas

by paperwishes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cuban Lance (Voltron), First Christmas, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), He just hides it better, Lance (Voltron) in Denial, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, Mistletoe, but so is keith, just pure fluff, klance, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwishes/pseuds/paperwishes
Summary: Lance thinks it's a great idea to ambush Keith under mistletoe. And, lovesick fool he is, he doesn't discriminate when it comes to which rooms he puts mistletoe in.





	Merry Fucking Christmas

Lance was crouched in the hallway beside the bathroom door, poised like a runner about to take off down the track: hands braced on the hardwood floor, one foot back against the wall opposite to the door, and one foot on the floor between his hands. He was glancing up every now and then at the small bundle of dangling mistletoe that hung from the white doorframe. He’d left the lights off for maximum effect.

Ha. This was sure to show Mullet Boy how a proper Christmas was celebrated.

The toilet flushed, and the faucet began running. Lance narrowed his eyes and prepared to lunge. It… may have taken longer than he would have guessed. Either Keith washed his hands super slowly, or he had somehow heard of Lance’s nefarious plan. Either way, Lance blamed the ache that came from staying in a tense position for so long on him.

Finally, he heard the doorknob turn. He tensed up even more, winced, and blamed the nervous fluttering of wings in his stomach on the fact that he was preparing to attack (sort of) a team member.

The door opened. Lance lunged up, banged his forehead against Keith’s, and, undeterred, kissed him.

Keith didn’t remove his hand from the doorknob the whole time, so they had to kiss awkwardly around the door. But Lance made the best of it, cradling Keith’s jaw in one hand. Way more gently than he would ever be willing to admit to himself. It didn’t really help matters that Lance hadn’t really thought through the fact that this would be his first kiss, and had absolutely no idea what to do. So he just sort of awkwardly pressed their lips together and froze.

Keith groaned, more out of exasperation than any kind of appreciation, and finally pushed the door out of the way, and deepened the kiss. Which… wow. Lance had absolutely no idea how to describe it (though he might want to tell Hunk about it later. When he’d told Hunk about his plan, he’d laughed his ass off before apologizing, so Hunk might not deserve an actual detailed account of the event. But still. He’d want to tell his best friend about his first kiss at some point.)

Lance hadn’t expected it to be quite so… real. Or warm. Or good. Keith’s lips were surprisingly soft, and his jaw fit so nicely into his hand, and, well. It was a lot nicer than he had thought it would be. Especially considering the ache that came from hitting heads. Not that he had thought about it. Ever. Under any circumstances. Because that would be ridiculous. He may not have been completely straight (bisexual all the way, baby!) but Keith wasn’t his type. He was too…talented. Sullen. Obnoxious. Combative. And even if Keith was his type, Lance doubted that Keith would actually care about him back. A kiss was just a kiss, and he wasn’t going to pretend it was anything more than it was. A harmless prank, and way to try and get rid of this ridiculous fixation he had with Mullet Boy.

But Keith pulled away all too quickly… which Lance definitely appreciated, because it wasn’t like his mouth tasted like hot chocolate and mint. That would have meant he was Christmas-y and nice tasting—two things that Lance refused to associate with his Ultimate Rival. Keith might have everything (looks, talent, brains, general endearingness…the list was obnoxiously long), but he would not take Christmas and hot cocoa with candy canes from Lance. Those were his territory, damn it.

Lance chose to completely disregard the fact that he had literally been kissing Keith under mistletoe, because that went against his argument and he refused to acknowledge the ridiculousness of his actions.

Keith stared at him, frowning for a moment. Then he shook his head, muttered, “Lance,” as if the name was a complaint a whole explanation all in five letters, and went to walk past Lance.

Lance snatched at his wrist to stop him. Surprisingly, Keith let him. (He knew well enough that Keith could have easily broken free and left Lance lying winded on the floor and still processing the fact that he’d even started fighting.) Lance tried not to pay attention to the apparent restraint that lack of action required, or to the ridiculously endearing ugly sweater that Keith was wearing way too seriously. Come on, who didn’t wear ugly sweaters ironically? And made them look good? Especially with a mullet, of all things. 

Dios, this was so unfair.

"Hey, you're supposed to ask what that was for." said Lance. He sounded a hell of a lot more disappointed than he would later be able to admit.

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Lance swallowed hard, and tried not to think about how nice Keith’s dorky gloves had felt against the back of his neck. "Yes!"

"If I do it, will you leave me alone?"

"Yes!" repeated Lance, ignoring how the pang of hurt those words sparked.

"Fine. What was that for?" asked a bored Keith. His cheek were kind of flushed though. It was hard to tell, since it was still fairly dark in the hallway (which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best plan). Besides, what would he have to blush about?

Lance pointed up at the doorway, not trusting his voice to stay calm.

Keith looked up, saw the mistletoe, and sighed. "You put up mistletoe."

The exasperation in his tone felt a lot more like their normal conversations, and Lance had to keep himself from sighing in relief. This he could deal with. This, he knew how to handle. "Yes. It’s a Christmas tradition, and I consider it my duty to introduce the unininitated—that’s you, by the way—to such things."

"Above the bathroom door."

In hindsight, it was a bit of an odd choice, but, at the time, it seemed like the easiest place to ambush him.

And he’d put mistletoe above every doorway, just in case. No one ever looked anyways, it wasn’t like they’d notice the difference if he didn’t point it out. At least, that’s what he told himself.

"Yes. Yes I did."

Keith snorted and said, "Okay, even I know that that's not how it's supposed to work.”

"Shut up, you asshole. At least you got your first kiss out of it," he said, with a smug smile.

"That wasn't my first kiss."

"Yeah, you're welcome--wait, what? The hell do you mean that 'wasn't your first kiss'?" said Lance indignantly.

"I mean it wasn't my first kiss."

"Are you kidding me? How do you always get to things like this before I do?!"

"Your guess is as good as mine. But I'm beginning to think it was your first." Keith smirked. "Especially considering your kissing skills. Or lack thereof."

"Shut up, Keith! No one wants to know what you think anyway!"

“Well, then why do you care?” shouted Pidge from the living room. Keith and Lance both heard laughter that sounded suspiciously like Pidge and Hunk's coming from the kitchen. Keith walked past Lance towards them, but Lance still caught the way that his smirk widened.

Horrible pretty boys and their horribly pretty smirks. Of course Keith had to beat him in that department too.


End file.
